This beautiful wooden hammock is very Kafkaesque, wouldn’t you say? Très Gregor Samsa post-arthropodal transformation.

That’s right, dear readers, I totally took 9th grade English. Three times!

This book is a collection of celebrity shopping lists the author most likely fabricated. If not, it’s sure to be a fun read. I bet if Oprah’s list is in there it includes human babies, a box of Kashi and Capri Sun. Let’s face it, that bitch is crazy.

Until I teach my cat to write (and I will, we’ve already conquered Backgammon), I’ll have to settle for Other People’s Love Letters. I hate to be so kind in a blog post, but this is a perfectly charming book and if it’s not really your thing, read it anyway and puke on your keyboard. Then take a picture and send it to me and I’ll puke, too, and we’ll be, like, total VFF (vomit friends forever).

I really need this Bookworm Bookmark. The tapeworm I’m using now is making my pages stick together.

Headed to a holiday party? Take a bad attitude along. Too lazy to do it yourself? Let this book do it for you. Stir up shit all night long with such notables as “You’re far more handsome than your wife made you out to be,” “You’re much more tolerable when you’re drunk,” and “I just tooted and a bean came out.”

Enter to win or BURN IN HELL FOR ALL ETERNITY.*

*actual contract with the Devil is negotiable. Non-entrant may opt out of eternal damnation in lieu of spending eternity in Alabama. Void where uninterested. Some restrictions may result in us kicking you in the groin while wearing soccer cleats.

Sukie makes books without words and I admire that. It’s no “your name on a grain of rice,” but still, it’s something to be celebrated. Warning: There’s a notebook for winners and I have it on good authority (God) that 99.9% of you don’t qualify. Oh, what a wonderful time to re-re-re-re-re-remind you that we have a contest going on. Enter here. Or die.

Class up your BUTT magazine collection with the classics. Like Tomorrow’s Man. Or this collection of Penguin Classics redesigned by Coralie Bickford-Smith. Either way.

via Sacramento Street

All I can think of when I look at these photo albums – with their precarious forward pitch and splayed fabric-wrapped labia – is the blinding pain you feel when you fall forward off your bike and slam your vag into the metal bar. Maybe you can fill it with pictures from your hospital stay!

This is an illustration from the 1960s and it sure does make me love the artist, Aliki. After I dug around a little (re: Googled “Aliki”), I fell in love even more. Aliki is a she and she was born in 1929. Then I asked God, “How come some people are so perfect?” And God said, “Homo says what?” And then I said, “What?” And then we laughed and laughed. God’s funny like that.

I can’t find the original book anywhere so here’s the updated version.